Love Letters
by Lady Myotismon
Summary: Told from Prince Quiffin's point of view as he watches The Lord of Midnight court his sister. It isn't Boa who eventually gets tangled in a twisted romance, but she is ultimately the one who suffers the most because of it. The very first Abarat slash!


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters; all of them belong to Clive Barker. And the little poem at the end is by Clive Barker, it is the closing poem in the second book, but I've changed a couple of the words around, you'll notice…

**Author's Note: **I don't normally beg for reviews, but I'm very curious as to your opinions on this pairing and on my writing. So a serious review would be greatly appreciated.

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I will never forget the first time I encountered Christopher Carrion. He is a disturbing sight to behold, looming almost seven feet tall. When you stand in his shadow you are enveloped in a cold that strangles you, rendering you little more than helpless prey in his eyes, a victim from whom he can draw money, power, and fear. His appearance only makes his imposing atmosphere worse. Always he is clad in dark colors, and he wears weapons like jewelry - needles on his fingertips and barbs on his cuffs like gemstones. But the most horrifying thing about Carrion is his collar. It is made of a glasslike material that completely encompasses the lower half of his balding head and filled with a blue liquid that has withered his face over the years. The collar is attached to the back of his skull by a pair of tubes, through which his embodied nightmares swim from his mind and into the fluid to caress his flesh, dance across his scarred lips, snaking into his nostrils which are all that remains of his nose. Above the rim of the collar is a pair of intense, bitter eyes that are so pale and tragic that I would almost consider them beautiful, if only because of the overwhelming emotion in his gaze.

"She does not love you," I told him that day, referring to my sister, Boa, whom he had been courting for several months. If I did not love my sister so deeply, then I never would have had the strength to face Carrion. I stood tall, trying my best to seem unaffected by his appearance, but it was difficult; I was the most frightened I had ever felt.

Carrion knew my sister's opinion. I could tell by the melancholy look he gave me and the way his facial muscles twitched, causing little ripples in the liquid inside of his collar.

I took a deep breath and continued to recite what my sister had told me. "She will not be seeing you today," I said, and his eyes fell and I felt genuinely sorry for him. If it had been any other rejected suitor I might have pat his back and spewed forth some hollow words of comfort. But this was Christopher Carrion.

Suddenly he lifted his head and straightened his back, confident and imposing once more. "Well, my trip shall not be wasted. Come, Quiffin, walk with me."

Reluctantly, I followed. The two of us made quite an interesting pair, him, the Prince of Midnight, and I, a Prince of Day. We walked side by side on the rocky beach surrounding my sister's palace on the island of Scoriae, where the confrontation had occurred. The island was coming back to life since the volcano at its heart had erupted last, and vegetation was beginning to poke through the cracks in the stones. There was absolute silence as we walked, and I wondered if he expected me to start a conversation. Eventually he led back to the palace, as though giving up on me, and said a civil goodbye before walking away.

Within a few days my sister was asking me whether I had really spoken with Carrion at all. I insisted that I had, but she showed me a letter she had received from him. She refused to let me read it, as always, but told me there had been no change in his feelings for her. There was nothing I could do, of course, so she simply continued writing him back and politely declining all of his romantic offers.

Weeks passed. Things were back as they had been, except that Carrion was constantly on my mind. He disgusted and intrigued me. I had a very strong feeling that the meeting at my sister's palace was the last time I would ever see him and my questions would never have answers. I never asked my sister; I was afraid my curiosity in her stalker would be upsetting.

Shortly afterwards I started getting letters, too. They never came by mail like my Boa's letters; they were always delivered by creatures working for Carrion. His minions never came to my door; they would always jump out at me while I was outside and least expecting it. It became quite obvious that Carrion did not want Boa knowing that he was in contact with me. I never told her either, although I regret that now.

At first the letters were entirely about Boa. They were all far too personal and I almost always replied with "I apologize, but I cannot answer your questions." After a while the letters would invite me to parties both private and public, and I only rarely replied to those. I was beginning to understand Boa's frustration. He sent letters quite often and despite how calm I typically was, Boa began noticing changes about me as well. I spent less time with her, because it was awkward, and avoided going outside with every excuse I could think of. For long periods of time I would pretend to be ill. Boa obviously mentioned this to Carrion, because I got letters asking about my health, and he kept saying that he knew some wonderful doctors. He must have suggested this to Boa, because she would come in my room and tell me she had been referred to specialists who might diagnose my problem, and whenever I declined she must have reported back to him, because his letters became more frequent and demanding that I see a doctor. Eventually, I could no longer stand the attention from either of them, and faked a miraculous improvement just to ease their minds.

Carrion was at my sister's next birthday party. Our father was, of course, blinded by his power. Just to avoid being harassed by father, Boa surrounded herself in friends, and was nearly impossible to reach all night. Naturally, Carrion's second choice in company was me, and I was so ashamed of our association that I avoided the few of my friends who had been invited.

He glanced over my shoulder, where Boa stood in the circle of women, avoiding reality. "She has failed to send me letters as often as she used to…"

I took a breath.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"She does _not _love you."

There was silence. He studied me through narrow eyes, capturing every detail of my emotion. The nightmares in his collar were writhing and glowing faster and brighter, almost completely obscuring his face. Then he sat back in his chair, his face veiled in the shadows, and sighed dramatically. "I know," he murmured.

"Then why do you pursue her?"

Carrion's eyes shifted back to Boa, where they remained for a long time. "Is it not obvious?"

It was. My sister altered the world. Darkness could not exist in the light she radiated. Even the greediest of women could not be jealous of her beauty, for it was impossible to feel any negative emotion in her presence. This was all I could imagine Christopher Carrion wanting – light where darkness conquered him and a total obliteration of his misery. Only Boa could give him such release.

"You will never win her heart through me," I said to him, hoping for an explanation as to why he was now preoccupied with me.

He studied me through his thin pupils, black holes that sucked in every detail. I pulled at my beard to emit some of my built up nervous energy. "I assure you Quiffin," he said, never breaking our eye contact, "I am not trying to."

"I hate to sound discourteous," I stammered, barely able to form words in my tension, "But then why do you pursue _me_?"

Carrion smiled and might have replied but a servant approached and interrupted our conversation. We were offered food and drink. Carrion declined, most likely because he would never consider removing the collar. Soon after I was served, entertainment began. There were geshrats doing impressive gymnastics, musicians accompanied by beautiful dancers, munkees making fools of themselves, and skits being acted out by famous performers from Babilonium.

"How does this foolishness amuse you?" Carrion snarled.

I had to admit, the look on his face was almost more engaging than the celebration. I chuckled quietly under the loud music and cheers.

Suddenly, I felt something on my shoulder and the world seemed enveloped in a haze, the colors were not as spectacular and the noises sounded far in the distance. I glanced down out the corner of my eye to find a hand on my shoulder, thin as a skeleton, and wearing a black glove made from material that felt like rose petals. My skin was cold but I could feel sweat in the curls along my hairline and on the back of my neck. Shivers ran up and down my spine, and my hand, holding a goblet of wine, was trembling so violently that the goblet fell to the floor and splashed tiny violet drops of liquid all over my pant legs.

Never before in my life had I been so humiliated. Carrion departed only a couple of minutes later when I had my back turned to him as I tried to clean my clothes. Despite how badly I wanted to be there for my sister, I left as soon as I noticed Carrion had, and went to my private quarters to change into clean clothes. There had been a note on my bed. I knew whom it was from, and spent several minutes calling out his name, searching through the shadows for him, until I was absolutely certain Carrion was not in my room before changing.

The note answered my question.

_Could your sister's astounding traits run in the family?_

I was worried, but there was nothing I could do. Neither Boa nor I could avoid his letters. When he wanted contact with us, he always had his ways. Meanwhile, I could not help but notice Boa's budding relationship with another young man whom she had yet to introduce me to. I could not help but feel this would prove disastrous in the end, and I had no idea how right I would eventually be.

A long time passed before I heard from Carrion again. He sent a short letter to my sister saying that he would be paying her a visit. Boa cried and I held her tightly, rubbing her back and burying my face in her silky hair to hide her from my own tears. For a long time she was locked in her bedroom and when Carrion came he was not surprised to hear that she was avoiding him again.

"You are hurting her," I told him furiously, lips curled in a snarl that was uncharacteristic of me.

"She is hurting me," he replied.

I hated his dramatic, clichéd language and the way he treated life like a game which he was determined to win.

Being raised as a polite man, I reluctantly invited him to the parlor and offered him a drink. I believed entirely that he would decline, but he considered for a moment and finally nodded, "I would like that."

He asked to be excused as I went to the kitchen to find us something to drink. A few of the cooks were busy at their stoves, and forced platters of crackers, cheese, and fruits into my hands. I was so ashamed of Carrion that I did not even tell them that he was our guest.

When I returned to the entrance hall, Carrion had returned.

He wore no collar. His face was gnarled and he looked beyond ancient, like a corpse that was just a short period away from rotting to the bones. The two holes in the back of his head where the tubes had once linked to his collar were corked with rubbery plugs, a long, silver spike set in each that resembled horns.

I led him to my room, because the thought of anyone seeing us in the parlor together was horrifying. We sat at a small, round table in the corner by the curtains, which Carrion drew tightly closed to prevent any light from entering the room. We were in blackness, and it took a while for my eyes to adjust. Carrion's pale eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

As he spoke, mostly about Boa, I eyed the curtains longingly. I did not like being blind around Carrion, because it made me uneasy. There were things he could do in the darkness that I could not, and it was an unfair advantage. Eventually, I leapt to my feet to open the curtains, but Carrion grabbed my forearm. I felt that familiar fogginess.

"Where are you going?"

His frail appearance was very deceiving. He pulled me closer to him, so that I could almost feel him in the dark better than I could see him.

"I was just going to let some light in…"

He pushed me back into my chair forcefully. "In the light, your eyes do the thinking."

I pondered the meaning of his words.

There was a rapid movement in the dark.

Feeling his lips on mine was like tasting a long rotten fruit. They were wrinkled and hardened by the cavernous scars and accompanied by a bitter taste. As it happened, I was focused on the physical aspects of it – the way my beard seemed to get in the way and irritate him, how he put some of his weight on my face to balance himself, and how he kept his tongue in his own mouth until the second before he pulled away, when it brushed swiftly across my lips. Afterwards, chest heaving with exhilaration, I realized that it had made me feel magnificent.

Despite how long it has taken me to write down the description, the kiss only lasted a couple of seconds.

He somehow got behind me, his bony hand on my cheek. Every time his lips touched the back of my neck I thought it was his last goodbye kiss. Every movement from behind me, I would turn my head to see if he was walking out the door. But there he remained.

I felt horrible that I had done this to my poor sister. I had kissed the man who had haunted her constantly, whom she feared more than anything in Abarat. Worst of all was that I felt like second best, like Carrion had kissed me only because he could not get to my sister. I felt like a whore.

I should have said something, but all I could think of how badly he needed some medicated lip balm, preferably flavored something more desirable than carrion.

"Should I leave?" That deep, despairing voice cut through the silence like the lash of a whip.

"If you think it would be best…" I answered, barely able to speak I was so disgusted with myself. There was a sound from behind me and I turned to watch him move towards the door. But suddenly I found my voice and a question erupted from my mouth before I could stop it, "What about Boa?"

He was so damned fast. I was suddenly on my feet, wrapped up in the shadows, immersed in his smell and the feeling of his robes and the sound of his heart beating. If I had been in the dark before, I did not know what to call this blackness, this loneliness, this emptiness, aside from calling it Carrion. He freed my face from the fabrics and the look on his face was genuinely troubled.

"Something will have to be done about her…" he muttered to himself, avoiding my eye.

"…something….will have to _be done_? Carrion, do not hurt my sister or else I will _kill _you. Do you hear me?" I yelled, grabbing his face and forcing it towards me, so that he could see the rage and the seriousness in my threat.

He left soon after that. I regret being so harsh with him…

Boa announced her wedding to Finnegan shortly after. I met him, and he was nice, and I was glad that she had found someone to be happy with. Neither of us received letters from Carrion, despite how often I spent searching for one. Maybe there's a note hidden under my pillow… inside of my pocket, perhaps? Or did he leave one for me to find on the table in my bedroom?

I got my last letter the day of Boa's wedding. It was a poem written by Carrion himself.

_Witch, do this for me:_

_find me a moon_

_made of longing._

_Then cut it sliver thin,_

_and having cut it,_

_hang it high_

_above my beloved's house,_

_so that he may look up_

_tonight_

_and see it,_

_and seeing it, sigh for me_

_as I sigh for him, _

_moon or no moon. _

Now, with everything said and done, the only one I hate is myself. As everyone knows, Boa is dead because of Carrion and more so because of me. There is this hole in my heart, perhaps in everyone's, where Boa used to belong. Everything is empty, as it was in Carrion's arms, although now the emptiness is my own, and Carrion cannot pull me to safety. Despite this, I will always continue looking for more letters.


End file.
